out her
instantly.

"Is it a man?" asked little Joan, pausing between her bites.

"No, thank all our stars," said Joscelyn, "it is a gypsy."

The milkmaids withdrew, their fears allayed. Joan bit her apple and
said, "It puckers my mouth."

Joyce: Mine's sour.

Jessica: Mine's hard.

Jane: Mine's bruised.

Jennifer: There's a maggot in mine.

They threw their apples away.

"Who'll buy trinkets?" said the Gypsy at the gate.

"What have you to sell?" asked Joscelyn.

"Knick-knacks and gew-gaws of all sorts. Rings and ribbons, mirrors and
beads, silken shoe-strings and colored lacings, sweetmeats and scents
and gilded pins; silver buckles, belts and bracelets, gay kerchiefs,
spotted ones, striped ones; ivory bobbins, sprigs of coral, and
sea-shells from far places, they'll murmur you secrets o' nights if you
put em under your pillow; here are patterns for patchwork, and here's
a sheet of ballads, and here's a pack of cards for telling fortunes.
What will ye buy? A dream-book, a crystal, a charmed powder that shall
make you see your sweetheart in the dark?"

"Oh!" six voices cried in one.

"Or this other powder shall charm him to love you, if he love you not?"

"Fie!" exclaimed Joscelyn severely. "We want no love-charms."

"I warrant you!" laughed the Gypsy. "What will ye buy?"

Jennifer: I'll have this flasket of scent.

Joyce: I'll have this looking-glass.

Jessica: And I this necklet of beads.

Jane: A pair of shoe-buckles, if you please.

Joan: This bunch of ribbons for me.

Joscelyn: Have you a corset-lace of yellow silk?

The Gypsy: Here's for you and you. No love-charms, no. Here's for you
and you and you. I warrant, no love-charms! Ay, I've a yellow lace,
twill keep you in as tight as jealousy, my pretty. Out upon all
love-charms!--And what will she have that sits crouched in the
Well-House?

"Oh, Gypsy!" cried Joscelyn, "have you among your charms one that will
make a maid fall OUT of love?"

"Nay, nay," said the Gypsy, growing suddenly grave. "That is a charm
takes more black art than I am mistress of. I know indeed of but one
remedy. Is the case so bad?"

"She has been shut into the Well-House to cure her of loving," said
Joscelyn, "and in six months she has scarcely ceased to weep, and has
never uttered a word. If you know the physic that shall heal her of her
foolishness, I pray you tell us of it. For it is extremely dull in this
orchard, with nothing to do except watch the cha